The Elementals: Return Of Creation

Chapter 2: Growth

 "Aye, but yar still not there yet Jack," Povious responded, lowering his arm when he confirmed nothing else was falling. "Said it 'imself, not 'till next week,"

 Jack sighed. "Yeah..next week.."

 "What's got ya fuzzy? It ain't long 'till then,"

 "I know. It's almost here, but it still isn't, is it?"

 "Ah, I get wha yar feelin'. Can't wait ano'er second," said Povious, giving him a reasuring look. "But it ain't an everyday thing ya know, Age 'o Becomin' an' all that. Ya gotta make it special, ain't no good rushin' yar one sixtieth birthday of all things,"

 One hundred and sixty, Jack thought to himself, letting the weight of the fact sink in, again. It was a thought he hadn't dwelled on too much until recently.

 His heightened celerity wasn't quite the very first inhuman feature he had. Accompanying him from birth was sluggish aging, around ten times slower than he should. It was the next week that he would reach his one hundred and sixtieth birthday, otherwise known as the Age of Becoming. It was called so, as far as he understood, because it marked the beginning of his proper training, when he would finally dig deep into his bizzare abilities.

 Trode and the other elves had been pestering him about it for the past few weeks, in their own ways. The elves would blabber about more mundane things, such as what to wear or how he should avoid even the smallest scratch and be in perfect condition for the day to come. Meanwhile, Trode would give him various speeches and lectures of the significance of it all.

 "This is no joke, Jack. The ceremony will mark the beginning of hard work and responsibilities ahead. You must be ready for this, othwerwise-" was one he repeated under many guises.

 Jack had been waiting over fifty years for that day to come, and even though now he was only a mere week away, it still felt like an eternity. In just a week he would finally start learning how to teleport, how to generate electricity from his palms, how to levitate, how to turn into lighting- basically all those amazing things he's seen Trode do!

 However, saying such a big number as his age wasn't all too appealing to him. He may have been impatient beyond reason and comfort, but it didn't sit too well.

 "C'mon," Jack scoffed. "Just say I'm sixteen. I've already asked you before,"

 "Aye, ya have," Povious chuckled timidly. "That'll be my bad,"

 "Loosen up, Povious," said Jack, teasing a bit. "I've also asked you to relax around me,"

" Aye, ya have," Povious repeated, still chuckling but in a more humble tone. "Sadly it ain't sumn' I can do, Jack,"

 Jack rolled his eyes, both amused and annoyed. "Well, at least you've gotten used to saying my name. That makes two of you,"

 Povious bobbed his head in agreement. Jack could tell that even though he still wasn't quite as laxed as he should be, he wasn't shaking like a leaf either. One hundred and fifty nine years of them knowing each other, and Jack couldn't be happier it was so.

  Back at home he lived with three other elves; Calliar, Lyth, and Nym. They were his caretakers, making it their priority to ensure his comfort and well-being to a near insufferable extent. Jack got by it by reminding himself that it was a part of their culture to do so. First they bowed down for Trode, and when Jack came along he was immedietly given the same treatment. Even so, he managed to form good bonds with them all, laxing most of their formality away. When he was in his seventies (when he was seven) the thought of him offering help was already enough to send them wailing on their knees, chanting over and over that it wasn't necessery and that they were sorry he even had to.